Passion and Propriety (Hearts of Honour Book 1) (43 page)

“Don’t overdo it,” William regularly warned, insisting she employ a secretary and delegate those tasks that were too time-consuming, onerous, or simply unenjoyable. The Blackthorn district was vast, comprising a dozen villages and goodly portions of some major towns, Thornton included. Hannah couldn’t possibly oversee
everything
pertaining to the well-being of their tenants and employees. But she insisted on paying personal attention to the needs of the people of Hartley as she always had, just with far greater resources at her disposal.

“Don’t forget to schedule time for
us
,” was William’s other, oft-repeated request.

“With pleasure,” she assured him, having no intention of neglecting her husband. Their relationship was her first priority, which was why, three and a half weeks after the Wescotts’ autumn dance, she rode out with him for a picnic despite the dreary weather.

William had a tendency to take on the characteristics of a caged lion when cooped up inside for too long. With autumn well established and the long winter months ahead, he took advantage of any remotely fine day to go riding or take a walk in the gardens. That Hannah was his preferred companion pleased her no end.

Their picnic, taken beside a small pond William remembered visiting as a boy, was lovely despite the less-than-perfect weather. A pleasant spot, it was unfortunately some distance from the manor on the far side of the forest.

“We’ll have to get a move on,” he said as they were making a leisurely return. In the time they’d spent lazing on a blanket, the day had gone from overcast to stormy, the threat of rain imminent. “Are you up for a canter?”

Gathering the reins tight, Hannah urged Milly, her chestnut mare, across the open field.

“Race you to the other side,” she shouted, riding on ahead. Her much smaller mount couldn’t possibly compete with William’s magnificent black thoroughbred, but it was fun to tease him.

“Grip tight with your knees,” he called after her.

“Yes, dear,” she said in a singsong voice. Riding astride was much easier than the socially acceptable sidesaddle, the irony of the so-called weaker sex being forced to ride in such a precarious manner not escaping her. If she ever wanted to ride alongside her husband publicly, in particular when he led the Blackthorn hunt, she would need to master the more dangerous form. But for now, she was glad to have the use of both legs to control her mount and help maintain her balance.

Laughing, she urged her mare onward, enjoying the feel of the wind in her face. Halfway across the field, a not-so-distant crack of thunder announced the storm’s arrival. Milly shied in response to the boom and flash of light, but Hannah held her seat . . . just.

“Are you all right?” William asked, pulling alongside her as the rain began to fall.

“I’m fine, but we’re going to get soaked.”

What had started out as an enjoyable outing looked to end dismally. The storm hit with surprising ferocity, and they ducked low against their horses’ necks to shield themselves from the fierce wind and driving rain.

“This way.” William took the lead as they raced beneath the forest canopy.

Hannah followed without hesitation, though she didn’t like the idea of being amongst the trees during a lightning storm. Not that being out in the open was much safer.

“Where are we going?” she shouted as they rode deeper into the forest, the ground a muddy quagmire beneath their horses’ hooves. After a few moments of treacherous riding, William pointed to a small shack, barely visible through the gloom. Hannah’s relief at finding shelter turned to panic when lightning struck close by, illuminating an enormous tree and sending it crashing across the path before them.

“William!” she cried as he dodged and weaved amongst the smoking branches before sailing over the fallen trunk. It was a huge leap, far greater than any jump Hannah had made before. She hauled back on the reins, but Milly charged ahead, determined to follow her mate.

“No . . . no . . .” Hannah felt the mare’s haunches bunching beneath her as she prepared to jump. Between the height of the log and the tangle of foliage, Hannah couldn’t see what was on the other side. She clutched tight at Milly’s mane, her head snapping back as the mare leaped upwards.

Time slowed, and for a moment she thought they were going to make the leap without mishap. But then Milly’s back hooves caught on a branch protruding from the far side of the log. With her horse twisting to the side, Hannah slipped from the saddle, a cry tearing from her lips as the ground came up to meet her. Crashing through a maze of twigs and leaves, she landed hard on her hip before rolling and smacking her back on the muddy ground.

“Hannah!” William shouted, and relief welled within her to hear his voice. The foliage above her rustled and shook as he lifted branches out of the way to get to her.

“Please be all right, please be all right,” he chanted, checking her for injuries while she struggled to suck air into lungs that felt bound in iron. Soaked to the skin, covered in mud, and aching all over, she was far from all right—except for the fact her husband was with her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll live,” she said when speech was possible. “Help me up?”

“I should carry you,” he muttered grimly, both of them aware it wasn’t possible. Even with two good arms, she’d have been difficult to lift wearing a mud-soaked habit.

With his arm around her waist, William supported her weight, helping her over fallen branches and slippery patches as they made slow progress towards the ramshackle-looking structure.

“What is this place?” Hannah asked from between chattering teeth once they were safely inside.

“An old gamekeeper’s hut.” William ignored a battered table and chairs and led her to a cot by the wall. “Sit here,” he said. “I’ll see if I can find a blanket. They used to keep these places well stocked, but I’m guessing it’s been years since anyone has visited.”

To their relief, an old chest provided a coarse, grey blanket while a dented lamp held enough oil to give them a few hours’ light. With William’s help, she removed her sodden coat, riding skirt, and boots. It was only when she was wrapped in the scratchy blanket that William stripped down to his breeches and joined her on the bed. Hannah opened her arms and welcomed him beneath the thin covering.

“We’ll warm up quicker this way,” she said, hugging him close. “Just as long as you don’t start getting any amorous ideas. I don’t think I’m up to it.”

William snorted. “For once, I’m not in the mood. Are you sure you’re all right?” He searched her face, his hands gently mapping her body. “Thank God you didn’t strike your head.”

“It’s the only part of me not hurting.” She managed a feeble laugh. It was either that or cry, and she didn’t think it wise to start something she might not be able to stop. To cap off their afternoon, her stomach had begun to cramp, and she suspected her courses had arrived. If she
had
been with child, she was losing it. Even knowing it had been less than a month and the event was neither planned nor welcome, she couldn’t help grieving what might have been.

“There, there,” William said when tears filled Hannah’s eyes despite her efforts to prevent them. “It’s going to be all right. Dodds will send out a search party. I told him where we were heading, and this hut is in a fairly direct line with home. I imagine our mounts are halfway back to their nice warm stables by now.”

“Lucky them.” Hannah sniffed, hoping Milly hadn’t been injured. “I know we’ll look back on this and laugh at our little adventure, but that was frightening.”

“Terrifying.” William shuddered. “I’m just glad you’re not too badly hurt. You’ll be stiff and sore tomorrow.”

“I’m stiff and sore right now,” she said with a huff, soaking in the warmth of William’s body. Her husband was better than hot bricks or a bed warmer, one of the many things she loved about him.

The thought galvanised Hannah to act. While the setting was far from romantic, after seeing William almost killed by the huge tree, not to mention her own brush with disaster, she wasn’t willing to wait to declare her feelings.

“There’s something I need to tell you. Something very important that can’t wait another minute.” She lifted her head to capture his startled gaze. “I love you, William. I love you with all my heart, and I’m so very glad you’re my husband.”

His jaw dropped, his features went slack, and for the longest moment, he just stared. Hannah wasn’t too
worried. She would even bear it if he didn’t echo the words straightaway, as she was reasonably convinced her husband loved her in return. He demonstrated it in so many different ways . . . although hearing him say it would be nice.

“Hannah,” he whispered, his tone a balm to her frazzled nerves. “I love you, too . . . so
much. I’ve wanted to say it for such a long time, but I wasn’t sure if you’d welcome the words, which seems ridiculous now.” He shook his head in bemusement. “If your feelings in any way mirror mine, then you’re overjoyed to hear me express them.”

“Overjoyed and relieved.” Hannah slipped a hand from beneath the blanket to cup his cheek. “I hoped, and by your actions it
seemed,
you might feel the way I did.”

“You could tell?” William’s expression brightened before it took on an embarrassed cast. “I was too much of a coward to come out and say the words in case you didn’t feel the same, so I’ve tried to show you instead. But now I’ve said it.” He smiled triumphantly, and Hannah couldn’t help but laugh.

“Which doesn’t mean you should stop
showing
me as well.”

“Of course not.” His expression sobered. “From now on, I shall tell you every day
exactly
how I feel about you, as well as continue to express it through my deeds.”

“Good.” She nodded, snuggling against his chest. “That’s my plan also.”

In Hannah’s imaginings, they’d enjoyed a passionate interlude after making their declarations, but the timing was off. Battered, bruised, and dealing with the sudden arrival of her courses, all she wanted to do was rest in her husband’s arms.

“Darling, it’s time to go.”

William’s voice roused her from sleep, and she reluctantly opened her eyes. A glance at their less-than-congenial setting and the rescuers crowding the small dwelling brought her wide awake. Mr Loring handed William a dry blanket, which he wrapped around her.

“Thank you.” Hannah mustered a smile as William helped her to her feet, while holding another blanket around his own shoulders. “Are the horses all right? My mare took a tumble at the same time I did. Was she injured?”

“Nothing serious, my lady.” Dodds stepped forward and doffed his hat. “I’ve got the lads taking care of her, but my biggest concern was seeing you and His Lordship returned home safely.”

“How
will
we return?” Hannah asked, in no fit state to be getting back on a horse.

“There’s an old logging road that runs close to the rear of the hut,” William explained as he helped her out the door, Mr Loring entrusted with her other arm. “There’s a carriage waiting. Well, more of a sturdy work cart.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Hannah sighed, reminded of the first time she’d travelled in a vehicle with William . . . also a plain and sturdy cart. The journey was wet, cold, and decidedly bouncy, but arriving home to a hot bath, a cooked meal, and a warm and comfortable bed was sheer bliss.

Chapter 34

Illness

William watched Hannah like a hawk for the next few days, insisting Grace come to check her over.

“You’ll need to take some gentle exercise or you’ll stiffen up, but a few days’ rest won’t go astray,” Grace said, before whispering for Hannah’s ears only, “More to keep your husband happy than anything, as he’s worried sick. I don’t think he’s aware how tough you are.”

Hannah hid her smile when William rushed over to hear the verdict, grateful to be back on better footing with her friend. Grace’s antipathy towards Hannah’s marriage had eased when she’d assured her friend her husband was taking particular care to make certain she did not conceive.

Unsurprisingly, given the soaking they’d received, William came down with a cold the day after their rescue.

“I’ll sleep in the master suite,” he said, not wanting her to catch his illness, but Hannah shook her already aching head.

“There’s no point. My throat hurts as much as the rest of me, and my nose is starting to itch. We might as well keep each other company in our misery.”

Having forgotten what a difficult patient William could be, Hannah almost came to regret her offer. His grumbling was quite wearing, even if his presence was
mostly
welcome.

“Poor baby,” she murmured in the middle of the night a week after their misadventure when his moaning kept them both awake.

“Baby?” he rasped, rising up on one elbow to eye her indignantly. “Are you inferring I’m acting like an infant?”

“Not at all.” She cuddled him close. “Well, maybe a little, but I can’t say I blame you. This cold is rather trying.”

“
You’ve
barely complained, and you were in much worse shape than me to begin with.”

“Sorry?” Hannah hid her smile when he harrumphed crossly.

When William recovered completely and Hannah did not, his attitude changed.

“Why isn’t she better yet?” he demanded of Grace, who came to check on her friend when she was still ill after three long weeks.